by Cara Bastone
“I’ll text you when I get there,” she amended. “Thanks for breakfast, and thanks for the guest room, Fin!”
The front door slammed and then Tyler and Fin were alone in her apartment, only a plate full of bagels as a flimsy excuse for him to be there.
Still standing, his hair a mess, Tyler looked down at the bagel in his hand, at his shoes at the door and then at Fin. “I’ll go.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Sit down. Finish your breakfast.” She ignored the fact that her heart was doing its best to pump jittery Kool-Aid down to her fingertips.
He sat again and this time, with no Kylie to distract him, his eyes wandered her apartment.
“I like your place.”
“Really?” She was surprised. She looked around at the copious potted plants, crystals and baubles hanging in the windows, the deep colors and antique furniture. “It’s really not your style.”
“Yeah, but it’s really your style. And I like your style. It works.” He took a big swig of his coffee. “Some people have these outrageous style choices, and you can just tell that they’re doing it almost to convince themselves that it’s who they are. But you? Nah, this is the genuine article. It works because it really is who you are.” He paused. “When we first met, I didn’t get it.”
“What didn’t you get?”
“Well, I guess I didn’t get why a woman who looked like you wasn’t trying to get famous somehow. You never wear makeup, you have, like, pirate princess hair, you don’t wear designer clothes. I’d...never met anybody like you. I thought you must have an angle, and it drove me nuts trying to figure out what it was.”
“Pirate hair?” she asked, her eyes widening with insult.
He laughed. “I said pirate princess hair. You know, long black hair all the way down your back. Hasn’t seen a pair of scissors in about a decade.”
“I get haircuts!”
He laughed, dropping his face into his hand. “I’m botching this. I’m trying to pay you a compliment. I like your hair. It suits you. In fact, your whole life suits you. And I like that about you.”
When her affronted posture melted back into a relaxed one, he continued on. “There’s no game. What you see is what you get, all the way down to your mismatched socks.” He grimaced and shrugged. “It’s rare. Everybody else cares about their image too much.”
Fin took another bite of her bagel and glanced at Tyler. The bongo drum in her chest made her want to look away immediately. Because there was something about his long face, the easy way he chewed, the shadow of dark blond stubble.
Everybody else cares about their image too much.
An unexpected truth came through the parted clouds, one that surprised Fin, even as she said it out loud. “You don’t care about your image any more than I do.”
Tipping her head to one side, she analyzed him through new eyes. He wore a collared shirt, as usual, his face shaved, his blond hair long enough to flop onto one side, but cut stylishly. She could see the muscles in his forearms peeking out from the folded cuffs of his shirt, the sharply ironed line in his trousers. Everything about his appearance implied that he deeply cared about his image. Yet...
He looked at her in surprise. “I thought you thought of me as James Spader, image-obsessed ’80s villain.”
“I did,” she said thoughtfully, her chin on her fist.
He laughed at her candor but she continued on.
“But now I think I’m wrong. I think that this whole thing you’ve got going on, it’s more for the socks reason than it is for what other people think.”
“Socks reason?”
“Yeah. You present yourself this way because it lends order to your life. There’s rhyme and reason, and that reassures you. I think you look like this more for yourself than for anyone else.”
His face quirked down, the corners of his lips pulling into a frown as he considered her words. “Maybe you’re right. I hadn’t really thought about it that way. I definitely like things the way I like them. And, yeah, I guess what other people think about it doesn’t bother me too much.” He chewed and swallowed the last bite of his bagel thoughtfully. “My dad was über image-conscious. He was always talking about how this or that would reflect on him, on the family. He always had the newest, sleekest stuff. But it was all ugly. No style, just money. I think that gave me sort of an allergy to the whole image thing. Besides, if my childhood didn’t do it, then Kylie’s would have. Our father’s precious image was the reason he kept Kylie a secret.”
“He didn’t want people here to find out about his second family?”
“I guess. Lorraine is...not like my mother. I mean, my mother’s no peach, but her blood is blue. You can drop her into any rich, hobnobby Long Island room, and she’ll swill vodka martinis and make eyes at the pool boys with the best of them.”
“But Kylie’s mother isn’t like that?”
“No. She’s crass. She hits on everybody.” He grimaced. “Including me.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.” He popped the p. “After I found out that I had a sister per my dad’s will, I went to Columbus on the first plane I could catch. Unfortunately I spent the entire trip warding off Lorraine and barely got to know Kylie. Ky and I would text or email a little bit. And we had a weekly phone call. I visited a few more times. But I really didn’t know her before this fall. Not in any way that actually ended up mattering.”
Tyler sighed and dropped his head, his palm smoothing over the back of his neck. Fin had noticed this tic of his and had wondered over it before.
“You’re getting to know her now.”
“Yeah.” Ty’s head came back up, his navy eyes lit with something like satisfaction. “I think we’re actually in a pretty good place. I just wish...”
“You could stop worrying about Lorraine.”
“God...” Ty stared at her. “I know that you do this for a living, but it’s freaky how good you are at knowing what I’m thinking.”
“Well, then, allow me to show off a little.” Fin cocked her head to one side and looked at Tyler, really looked. She observed the play of his own energy off of itself, the busy rush in some places, the calm swirl in others. She pushed her bongo heart to the back of her mind and really tried to understand the topic at hand.
“You’re not worrying about Lorraine as much as you’re worrying that she’ll be able to get back into Kylie’s life.”
Tyler shifted uncomfortably. “Uh. Yeah. Makes me feel like an absolute asshole for saying it out loud. But pretty much the second I realized the way Kylie had been living I thought to myself, God, I hope that Lorraine stays gone.” He gave her a wry look that she knew was covering up a deeper feeling. “You know I never wanted to be responsible for a kid. Not my style. But yeah, Kylie wasn’t just some kid. And I figured that even as unprepared as I was, I could give Ky a better life than Lorraine could.”
“I don’t think you should feel like an asshole for that,” she said quietly, internally wincing over the memory of the ball game. Her harsh words. Was he admitting that they’d been, at least at that point, partially true?
“The kicker is that Lorraine isn’t gone. She’s fighting legal battles to keep her ass out of jail. And honestly, I’m not really rooting for her to succeed. Shouldn’t I be hoping for the kid to work things out with her mom?”
“Trust me, moms aren’t always the safest place for a kid to be.”
“Oh. Right. You, ah, came to live up here with your aunt, is that right?”
“Yeah. And she ended up raising me in all the ways that counted. All the ways that my own mother couldn’t.”
He paused for a second, his navy blue eyes on hers, a quiet expression on his face. “Is your mother alive?”
“I...don’t know,” she answered with a naked honesty that shocked her. “I haven’t heard from her since I was fourteen.” Fi
n popped her chin onto her hand and looked vaguely out one of her windows. “She was into drugs so it’s possible she’s gone. But she’s also one of those people who lands on her feet. I guess I wouldn’t be surprised either way.” And just like that, she’d told Tyler more about her life than anyone besides Via knew. How had he done that? Gotten the truth from her like that? Fin cleared her throat, avoiding his eyes and steering the conversation into safer waters. “Trust me, if Kylie is anything like me, which she is, she stopped hoping for her mom to transform into mother of the year a long time ago. I think for better or worse, Kylie has accepted the reality of who her mother is. Whether or not she’s accepted the reality of who you are, I’m not sure yet.” She made a face. “Sorry. You didn’t ask for a session. I’ll stop now.”
“No, it’s interesting. I like watching you work.”
A moment of silence passed between them and Fin was aware that they were no longer eating, and their coffee cups were empty. Tyler had run out of reasons to be in her house. He seemed to realize the exact same thing at the exact same moment.
If she knew him at all, he was going to hurry himself out the door, not wanting to seem like he was pushing into her space.
“Uh, all right, well. I guess I’ll get going then.” He stood and picked up all the plates. “Bagels are yours, obviously. Hope you enjoy them. And thanks again for taking care of Kylie last night. It was a lifesaver for me, because it ended up being a late work night. So...okay.” He reappeared from her kitchen, where he’d set the dishes. “I’ll get out of your hair.”
He strode over to his loafers and toed into them, pulling his stylish coat on and flipping the collar out.
Fin had never been particularly susceptible to men and their wiles. She’d rolled her eyes at shirtless ad campaigns and merely smirked at pretty-boy Instagram accounts. But, yeah, it was also true that a weakness of Fin’s was watching a man adjust his clothes. She couldn’t exactly explain it. But there was something about the tying of shoes, or the buttoning of pants, or the side-to-side adjustment of a tie that just oofed her. And watching Tyler fiddle around with the collar of his coat was no exception.
To her horror, Fin felt a blush rising in her cheeks. Get ahold of yourself! It’s not like you’re watching him undress! It’s a winter coat, for god sakes.
And then, he was all dressed with nowhere to go but out of Fin’s house. She found that, as much as she hadn’t wanted him to invade her space, now she didn’t want him to leave. She didn’t want him to leave at all. He was getting dangerously close to her front door and there was that familiar voice, the one she almost always listened to, that was speaking so clearly inside of her. Stay, Tyler, the voice said. Stay here.
“Tyler.”
He stopped and turned. And now, standing there, trying to see him, she felt as if she were squinting through yards of gloomy muck. There, at the bottom of the muck, was that golden energy she couldn’t ignore anymore.
Stay, Tyler.
How could she get him to stay?
The thought struck her blindingly clearly, like a flash in the dark. She almost blinked against the intensity of it.
Her bathtub! The forgotten ask. How many times had she meant to ask her superintendent to swing by and fix it? And how many times had she forgotten? And now she knew exactly why her brain had let that information slip away time and time again. Because the superintendent wasn’t the person who was supposed to fix the leak in her tub.
Tyler was.
She cleared her throat. He still waited there, patiently. Apparently he’d become accustomed to these long pauses in which she balanced her psychic life with her physical one.
“Do you know anything about bathtubs?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
TYLER WAS IN the best mood he’d been in in over a year. Kylie had gotten her grades back recently for the first semester, all Bs and a lone, glorious A. He’d take it. She’d started studying at the desk he’d set up in the living room. She almost always called him Ty now, she was holding down a job, singing to herself when she folded her laundry and had even started clearing the dishes after dinner.
That wasn’t the only area where Ty’s life was going swimmingly. He had a meeting coming up with his editor next week to convince him to let him take his column in a new direction, which might in turn free up some of his nights and weekends. He was currently on his way to play basketball at the Y with Seb and Matty. And best of all, he’d gotten asked out by the cutie behind the counter at his coffee shop this morning.
He bounced the basketball on the sidewalk as he jogged around the corner toward the Y, earning some dirty looks from a group of older ladies in large hats, stepping out of a church. He picked up the ball and tipped an imaginary hat to them. “Excuse me, ladies.”
Two of them smiled at him, but one just frowned even more, rolling her eyes at the floppy-haired goofball grinning at them. That made Ty grin even harder. When he was far enough away from them, he started dribbling the ball again.
“What are you grinning at?” Sebastian called from where he and Matty were waiting in front of the Y.
“Got asked out by a hottie at the coffee shop this morning.” He held his hand out to Matty. “Slap me some skin.”
Matty gave him a whopping good high five and then jumped in a 180, facing away from Ty, holding one hand in the air. “No-look high five!”
Laughing, Tyler slapped hands with Matty again. That wasn’t exactly what people meant by a no-look high five, but still, the kid had flair.
“So, when’s the date?” Seb asked as he checked in at the front desk, handing over a few bucks to bring Tyler in as a guest.
“What date?” Ty asked, peeking in at the courts on the way to the locker room, seeing if there was enough room for them to just shoot around or if they were going to have to join a pickup game.
“Your date with the coffee shop hottie.”
“Oh. I didn’t say yes.”
Tyler had his coat already locked into a locker by the time he turned around and saw his best friend gaping at him. “You...said no to a date. With a hottie.”
Tyler grimaced. “You make it sound like it’s a sign of terminal illness or something. You know I haven’t been dating for a while.”
“Sure, but things are finally evening out with Ky, I just figured...”
“I’d wanna get back in the saddle?”
“You ride horses, Uncle Ty?”
Tyler looked down at Matty’s blunt face, his innocent expression, and swallowed down his own laughter. “No. I do not. It’s an expression. It means to try something again even if you’re out of practice.”
“Thank you for the PG explanation,” Seb muttered once Matty had scampered forward, out of the locker room and onto the courts.
“Mickey Rooney, think fast!” Tyler launched the ball over to the kid, nearly smacking him in the face with rubber, but Matty dodged at the last second, laughing like a maniac and chasing the ball down. “I’m not going to corrupt your kid by explaining that it’s not horses I ride.”
“Gross. Done. We’re done with that topic.”
Tyler laughed. He’d always known how to push Seb’s buttons.
“So, that’s really it? You said no because you’re just not dating right now?”
“I guess.” She’d asked him out before but had seemed unavailable since he’d gotten back from Columbus. Apparently she was available again. Honestly, Tyler hadn’t really thought twice about saying no to the date. It had just sort of happened and he’d moved on.
“Because of Kylie?”
“Yeah. And—” Tyler cut himself off immediately when, to his confusion and horror, it was Fin’s face that popped into his mind. The image of her laughing and sitting on the closed lid of her toilet while she handed over tools for him to fix the drain in her tub last weekend. He’d been happy to help; he’d done something similar with
his own tub a couple years before. And maybe, just maybe, due to the smiley, blushy mood she’d happened to be in, he’d taken a skosh longer with the task than was strictly necessary. Maybe, just maybe, he’d fiddled around for an extra half hour because it had been nice to joke with her about nothing, her sagey smell filling the small bathroom around them, her cute-ass feet perfectly wrapped up in the socks he’d bought for her.
But that wasn’t the reason he’d refused the date.
It couldn’t be. He’d gone down that road before. That feelings-for-Fin road that led to nowhere but humiliated at a baseball game. How many times had she made it clear that she wasn’t interested in him? Hell, the last month she’d obviously been making arrangements so that she could hang with Kylie without having to see him as well. If that wasn’t a hint, then he didn’t know what was. It was extremely dangerous to let himself start this silly crush up again.
“And...” Seb prompted.
“I don’t know. Things are going well. I just don’t want to rock the boat.”
A court opened up, and the conversation stopped as the play started. The game alternated back and forth between Seb and Ty attempting to shove the ball down each other’s throats and lifting Matty up onto their shoulders so that he could dunk. Ty was thrilled to see that Matty’s ball handling had improved a lot since the last time they’d played together.
“Hey, Dad, can I have money for water?”
“Water is free.”
“Not the kind I want.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes and peeled a five-dollar bill out of his pocket. “Get one for me and Uncle Ty too.”
“No strawberry flavor for me!” Ty called at Matty’s retreating back.
Seb turned to Ty and passed the ball to him. “Any news?”
Ty didn’t have to ask what kind of news Seb was prying after.
Ever since Kylie had come to Brooklyn, there’d been pretty much crickets on what the hell was happening with Lorraine. As much as he’d called his lawyer, Kylie’s social worker, they always said the same thing: nothing to report yet.